04.27.08 - La Isla del Sol


The Inca "Isle of Eden" 


"Windows" as a metaphor for visibility into the deeper thoughts and emotions of the human condition are practically cliche, but there is truth in the transparency of the tangible experience.  I stood a long time this morning at the hotel window and soaked in the morning sun and clarity of the moment.

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The hotel window framed an aquatic scene worthy of a much better photographic equipment than the replacement camera purchased in La Paz.

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Our objective today was to venture to the figurative and literal birth place of the Inca Empire, Isla Del Sol.  For Inca faithful this bit of upturned striated rock birthed the earth's population with a simultaneous revealing from the depths of Lake Titicaca of Manco Capac, the first Inca, and his sister-wife Mama Huaca.  In the Inca "Garden of Eden" liturgy there is no logical disconnect between brothers and sisters procreating to populate the earth.  In fact, each successive ruler was the product of the first generational son and his sister... and we thought the "blue bloods" were inbred.  In fact the only major conflict prior to the arrival of the Spanish Conquistadors was between two ruling brothers, the elder born from the ruling Inca and a secondary wife vs. the younger born of the union of his father and the maternal sister of the Inca. 

In order to venture to the physicality of  this alternate creative source we needed to board another private Bolivian ferry.  These overcrowded vessels are less seaworthy than appearances.  The underpowered outboard engine struggles for propulsion.  It was easy to joke that "Thank goodness there's wasn't a headwind this morning; it might turn the two hour trip into four."  A reasonably powered boat could have easily made the traverse to the near side of the island in half an hour and completed the far side delivery with an additional fifteen minutes.

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Have no fear... the Bolivian Navy was safely "in charge" from the security of terra firma.

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The still clarity of the day did not go unnoticed, especially as our inexpensive cameras struggled to deal with the overabundance of glare and UV radiation.  Everything was getting washed out or automatic digital overcompensation drug images to a dark blur.  No worries... the undulating island was still visually captivating.

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The inhabitants of Lake Titicaca have a rich heritage of sea faring, primarily in historic bound reed boats brought to world attention by the Contiki voyages of the 1970's, where a historically accurate reed boat sailed the Pacific to Easter Island and beyond.  It is speculated that the second tribe, to the Polynesians, on Easter Island were actually Inca's.  

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By and large, traditional reed boats have been exchanged for more modern wooden fishing and ferry vessels.  (This beach scene could just have easily been a visual capture from Greece or Turkey.)

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Tourist economic impact leaves an immediate impression.  This little guy met the boat to ask for candy and lead visitors to his mothers handy craft display.  (At least he was child-like enough to ask for candy first.)

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So much of the foundational economy is funded by tourist dollars that the weight of expectations can be overwhelming, especially when we were seeking the solace of a day of outdoor exploration.

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After a brief tour of the local Inca museum and purchase of our tourist permission ticket, the trail out of town towards the main ruin site guided to a few moments of uninterrupted ambling.

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The island's foundational building material is earthen bricks, formed of dense soil, water and natural binders, then formed and dried in the intense high altitude sun.  With so few native raw materials to work with, life's effort is simply on display.

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Lipika and I came across this sad little piglet penned along the path.  He was so cute and alone.  It tugged at heartstrings to see him mope, spawning Lipika's phrase "Ein Schwein ganz allein" or one pig utterly alone.  There's a children's book in this phrase just waiting to happen.

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So much for little pink piglets.  This breed is rightfully shaggy, to fend off the glaring sun, while providing an insulating layer against the cold.  Even though it is sunny the 10 degree Celsius or 50 degree Fahrenheit temperature can be brisk in the shade or when the wind blows.

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The inhabitability challenge of the island bridges technology gaps.  Maze is still grown as a staple, while galvanized steel roofing gradually replaces thatch.

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There is no rest for the escapist tourist or the trapping vendor.  Quite often local craft purveyors will "set up shop" directly in front of where one needs to travel.  In this case, patience tolerances were being tested and we graciously declined persistent offers and hastily headed up the path, unwittingly bypassing one of the key island sites.  It wasn't instinctual for us to have physically pushed past the local woman, to the right, instead of heading up the main path.

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So we missed the footprints of the Inca God Viracocha, where he was supposed to have emerged from Lake Titicaca, but we did make our way to the rock of the Puma and the main Inca sacrificial site.

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At this point, it was no surprise to find the high sacrificial alter being used as a sales venue.

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Directly across from the Inca table or altar is the Rock of the Puma.  It is said that this is the source of the name Titicaca or Lake of the grey puma.  Honestly, no one knows the true naming origin.  However, it is humorous to see/hear how western culture has influenced the humor of the Bolivian vs. Peruvian rivalry over this shared body of water.  A local guide jokingly told us that the waterway derives its name from the fact that Bolivia  gets the "titi" and Peru owns the "caca".  See... potty humor is internationally universal... haaa.

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A few meters north of  the Rock of the Puma are the Chincana ruins, known as the labyrinth.  It is believed that sinful Incas would wander the winding passageways as a cleansing ceremony.  By the time the navigation was complete, their error would be self evident and the path to restitution clear.

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The delineation between where the labyrinth ends and monastery ruins begin has been washed away with time.

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So, the consciences of these sheep should be as "white as snow" after spending countless days wandering the labyrinth to graze.  Somehow, I think the guy in the back must be in denial.

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Twelve kilometers of exposed trekking at altitude can be slightly more challenging than anticipated.  The highest point is just over 4,000 meters or roughly the summit of California's Mt. Shasta.

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We decided that a geologic safari and enjoying the day was far more important than setting any speed records, so admired the view of upturned rock and sea.

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Then there was this little cutie, out in the literal middle of the island.  She was keeping her Mama company while she peddled hand made jewelry.  It worked.  We stopped and Lipika supported the family venture.

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Appropriately placed, just up the trail from our nursery aged friend, was this tortoise shaped rock.  Somehow, this formation appeared much more tangible is shape than the "Rock of the Puma".

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Did you know that the earth recycles its rock formations every 20 million years?  With that in mind, the jagged edges of obviously upturned stone plating makes sense, as the earth churns its composting surface layer.

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Who needs a clothes dryer when there is thatch and solar heating so readily available?  The open display of most aspects of life was empathetically appealing. 

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Our trek from Cha'llapampa to Yumani took about five hours, with ample stops for sight seeing, picnics, and rest breaks.  Beautiful views of the Andes helped to ease the annoyances.  The island is actually split into three districts and each extracts a "road tax" from tourists.  Ultimately, the financial penalty is a little over $2 USD, but the annoyance of being persistently hassled makes the process burdensome.  Unfortunately, local, state, and national governments have no accountable way for single assessment, to then be equally redistributed to the three communities.  The current system allocates funds most equitably to each community, while demanding patience from travelers.

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What a picturesque day!  Exchanging the morning window view for the evening vista seemed like a fair trade.  Both are beautiful.  Seared from the sun and wind exposure, there was very little bodily resistance to an early dinner and impending sleep. 

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